


Kairos

by authorafterhours



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Sakura gets sidetracked on a mission, TW: Blood, Time Travel Fix-It, because when you're chasing down a dimension hopping criminal things tend to happen, featuring Shisui Uchiha as a damsel in distress, shisaku, warning for the usual ninja bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 02:16:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authorafterhours/pseuds/authorafterhours
Summary: Back then, it had felt like flying.Now the ground hit back, harder and sloppier each time as his footsteps became more erratic, more desperate, like a bird trying to remember how to touch the sky again. ShiSaku, featuring a time traveling ANBU operative and a pretty damsel in distress and not necessarily in that order.





	Kairos

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The plot is mine, but the characters are not. The Naruto universe and those inhabiting it belong to their copyright holders and no copyright infringement is intended.

The body flicker technique was arguably one of the most basic skills a ninja learned early on, and on the blood-soaked coat tails of the Third Great Ninja War, it was a set of hand seals most memorized before they even graduated from the academy. It was not remarkable in any real way which was to be expected given that it was just using chakra to move faster…and yet, the moment Shisui’s feet successfully hit the ground that first time, with grass-stained knees and his lungs trying to catch up he had been enraptured. Was this what it felt like when the Shodaime sprouted that first bud? When the Yondaime picked up that first brush? He remembered leaning forward, resting his hands on his knees, looking at the ground through his bangs, and soaking it all in as a wide smile lit up his face.

Back then, it had felt like flying. 

Now the ground hit back, harder and sloppier each time as his footsteps became more erratic, more desperate, like a bird trying to remember how to touch the sky again. With one eye, the world felt halved, and the shift in the wind was all the warning he got before Shisui dodged a blitz of shuriken and kunai.

_‘Well, they certainly aren’t hesitating to use my new blind spot to their advantage,’_ he gritted his teeth as he landed on the next branch, kunai already spinning between his fingers as he batted away more projectiles with sparks that lit up like fireflies. It wasn’t until he already hit it, his reflexes damning, that the Uchiha realized just what had been thrown at him and suddenly all the air in the world couldn’t find him. Coughing, Shisui managed to flicker out of the purple plumes and onto another tree before he fell to his knees. 

_Do not worry. I will make good use of your eyes._ It was hard to tell if it was the poison, or Danzo’s words that made everything shake. The Uchiha, like many clans that contained a blood-line limit, impressed upon its young the importance of keeping their natural gifts out of the hands of outsiders. Healthy caution was necessary for survival, but outright paranoia was one of admittedly many points of contention between the village and the clan. Uchiha Obito’s case was a touchy subject for many reasons, the first being that his eye was still in Hatake’s possession, rather than being properly destroyed as was custom. Obito was the first to ever willingly give up his birthright and it brought up questions as to where body autonomy ended and the greater well-being of the clan began. The validity of the reports given for that particular mission were also in question because it wasn’t like the one person that could confirm or refute it was around to do so. Shisui never allowed himself to believe in that conspiracy theory but he couldn’t deny it sounded suspicious. The ominous rustling of leaves brought him back as Danzo’s operatives caged him in. He didn’t know what sort of gas it was that he inhaled, but it made their voices seem warbled and distant. 

“Aim for the legs, not the face,” his hand tightened in a fist as he inwardly clawed around for his chakra. Shisui couldn’t die here…he couldn’t let Danzo have his way. Tagged kunai glinted in his peripheral, pulled back and arms taut, almost like that of an archer’s. He couldn’t— yet they never flew. His body tensed, his remaining eye wide as he felt the blood splatter, and a bit of it dripped down the back of his neck. Hesitantly, Shisui turned his head to look over his shoulder and just barely caught sight of the leader of the group slumped forward…only for the body to snag on the fist that pierced his chest. The hand retracted with a sickening squelch, and in the dust of his descent, an ANBU operative with pink hair swept up in a ponytail was revealed. Her appearance parted his pursuers like water with the strength of opposing magnets, yet held that air of attraction as all eyes were now focused on her. Shisui was no exception, but his reason he would shamefully admit to himself later, had nothing to do with the woman as a potential threat. 

She was just that breathtaking. 

With well-defined muscles, blood-soaked hands, and her unusual hair color Shisui couldn’t help but recall the old tales. There were stories of mysterious, beautiful women that dwelled in forests that could entice a man to death just as easily as she could coax a kiss. The kind of woman … When she spoke, something slithered down his spine as his breath caught. 

“…Whoops. Put too much ‘oomph’ into it.” Her tone was sheepish, but it was said almost as an afterthought.

And then all hell broke loose. 

Amidst pinwheels of his Sharingan, the reflection of the woman seemed to dance as she dodged the grasping hands of death. The droplets of blood were glimmering rhinestones seemingly sewn into her skin that twinkled with each backflip, each twirl. Her initial attack had been brutal, and Shisui expected more of that…what he didn’t foresee was her hits becoming almost caresses as her chakra-glazed fingertips grazed an unprotected chest. The unfortunate victim began to convulse as he clutched at his heart, which prompted Shisui to focus his gaze at the source, only for the connecting dots to pelt him like hail. She planted her chakra like seeds in the body…only to detonate them like bombs, attacking the organs directly. They jerked and fell, some in ruptured rivers, until they resembled twisted twigs. The branch he kneeled on dipped with added weight and his head snapped to the side, his tanto already sheathed in white knuckles. The mysterious woman was perched almost daintily near the end, her hands loose at her sides and in plain sight as she gave him a wide berth. 

“Who are you?! What do you—“ a moist cough interrupted, and when his hand left his lips his palm was a red Rorschach inkblot. Yet in spite of this moment of weakness, she remained still, hand tightened in a fist as she watched him hack and wheeze. When they ceased, or at least quieted she spoke softly yet swiftly like the footfalls of her mask’s animal.

“You know we can’t reveal our names, but you can call me Ichigo. Lord Hokage suspected Elder Danzo of ill dealings and sent me to investigate, observation only orders but I…I could not stand by.” The yarn was spun with just enough truth to make it real. “I am not your enemy,” the fiber became steel-like with conviction, besides it was an easier explanation than the truth of inter-dimensional travel, “and I wanted to return this to you.” She took the opportunity his next coughing episode provided, each one an itch she longed to scratch, and removed a small jar from her hip pouch. Inside was his missing eye, staring right back at him. He met its gaze for a long, awkward moment before he peered at the dark eyeholes of her mask. 

“But Danzo…how did you?” Unseen, her lips thinned as his words came out raw and chakra kept her feet firmly in place…more to stop herself from bursting his personal boundaries than to fight off gravity. 

“A bit of persuasion was needed…”

“Please don’t tell me it was this kind of persuasion.” Shisui gestured toward the bodies and her tapping foot informed him that the interruption wasn’t appreciated. As the silence stretched on, his indignation flagged in the face of her hidden glare yet despite her body language, her tone remained the same.

“As I was saying, a bit of persuasion was needed but I figured he would be more useful to your case alive than dead. He’s just…paralyzed at the moment.” And unconscious. She spearheaded through his next thought as he opened his mouth, “And I am not above doing the same to you if you don’t let me heal you.”

“Why should I trust you?” Her arms were crossed over her chest and her cargo jiggled against the glass, drawing his gaze for a moment before it flickered back to this woman that seemed too good to be true. 

“…Do you really have a choice?” Shisui felt he had a lot of choices truthfully, they weren’t all good mind you, but whether or not an option was palatable or not did not make it any less of one. He could let the poison take its course, he could try to fight his would be helper to steal his eye back himself, he could destroy both to prevent Danzo from getting his hands on them, he could still try to cast Kotoamatsukami…the selection was endless, even on the limited time frame he had left if he opted to go untreated. The only limit was his imagination…but as he took in her stubborn stance, Shisui realized he might have another. Ichigo said it herself, she would treat him with or without his consent but that contradicted her actions. If she really meant it, she’d already be at his side, and he’d probably be out cold…he sighed and lowered his arms but did not sheathe his weapon. Her heeled sandals clicked briskly before she kneeled in front of him, palms already pulsing peridot.   
Even with the Sharingan, Shisui wasn’t prepared. His breath hitched as her chakra wove through him, scanning and mending where it could. The initial contact was uncomfortable, like ice cubes clinking against the walls of his veins before it acclimated, and gradually faded to the quiet comfort of worn, well-loved clothes. The Uchiha’s shoulders drooped but he remained attentive, his eye focused on the oddly colored swooping lines that stroked across her mask. To match her hair perhaps? At a soft hiss, he glanced down where her gloved hands met his chest. His minor injuries seemed to melt, save for one. At his inquisitive expression, the jar was placed in his hands so a flask could be procured, and with her chakra his mysterious helper was able to use the fresh water inside to remove the toxin. The final cut vanished with it.

“I got most of it out, but not all of it. Thankfully I am familiar with this particular strain,” the flask was replaced with a scroll, and in a puff of smoke what Shisui could only describe as a miniature chemistry set appeared, precariously balanced. He wouldn’t deny he had reservations, especially when he spotted needles. “Don’t give me that look…poisoning you would be idiotic at this point, and I have zero interest in a doujutsu that seems to be more of a burden than a blessing.” The reasoning caught him off guard, just enough for his remaining eye to widen, before a lackluster smile shined his face. 

“I dunno, a lot of people would disagree with you. I’ve got a pretty hot commodity on my hands…and they’re going fast.” Ichigo snorted and Shisui couldn’t stop himself from letting loose a damp chuckle. When the mirthful tremors ceased, his expression shifted, became more guarded. “But now I’m curious…what gives you that impression?” Removing a clean alcohol wipe, Sakura grabbed his arm and began cleaning a patch of suitable skin as the brief silence digested the question. 

“From what I’ve observed, a lot of the Sharingan’s power comes from mental trauma suffered by the user…biologically it’s the dictionary definition of ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ mindset taken to an extreme. I think we both know how healthy that is.” He didn’t struggle or show sign of pain as the needle hit him beyond a slightly redder bottom lip afterwards and a quiet oath. As she cleaned and healed the injection site, Shisui chewed thoughtfully on words, hers or his own, he fumbled with the flavor before he finally spoke.

“...My father used to say we are cursed to be blessed with brief happiness.” It was as much of a confirmation as any gag order would allow. He eyed the supplies that had been used on him as they were set aside, separate from the rest which was sealed away once more. 

“Sounds like a wise man,” the syllables came with the care of knowing they fell on unseen landmines, and a bloodied, gloved hand gestured to the small pile, “If you’ve got enough breath, burn them.” It took a few tries, and a bit more effort than Shisui wanted to admit but eventually all that remained was ashes. The eye procedure took a little bit longer but when the world came back in full focus, he couldn’t help but curl his fingers into a fist to stop them from shaking. Finally, Ichigo would shine a small light in his eyes, and have him follow her fingers before asking him to turn his Sharingan on and off. With all this medical knowledge, maybe she worked in the hospital? But Shisui was sure that he never encountered a pink-haired doctor before…but his eyes didn’t detect a henge. Maybe she dyed it? “Everything seems to be in order. How are you feeling?”

“Tired but…much better. Thanks.” As he moved to stand, the Uchiha stumbled and would have taken a swan dive off the tree had Ichigo not steadied him. 

"You drugged me." 

"I did not,” indignity colored her tone, “drowsiness is a side effect of the antidote. It wasn't intentional and would you have honestly let me treat it if you knew?" Okay, Shisui had to give her credit there because the answer would have been a resounding hell no. “Besides, time wasn’t exactly on my side, so forgive me for not putting together a presentation.” Sarcasm rolled heavy on her tongue as she carefully maneuvered him so that Shisui was eventually draped over her back. He loosely wrapped his arms around her neck and tried to fight a shiver as her palms gripped the underside of his knees. Straightening up, Ichigo made sure Shisui was secure before she took a running leap off the branch. His hands unconsciously tightened as his heart leapt in his throat at the moment of weightless stillness. There was a frightening, not quite familiar dissonance. It was not altogether unwelcome and soon, he relaxed into her back. The first to recover was his humor.

"...Does that mean you aren't going to have your wicked way with me?" The stuff must have been more potent than he thought if his only reaction to them nearly falling out of a tree was laughter. He couldn’t see her face but between the fringes of her hair, her ears were certainly red. Stuttered, aborted sentences sputtered and were mixed between his laughter, which only grew in volume. Finally, her ire ballooned so much that it could only culminate into his surname.

“Uchiha!” More than anything he wished he could see her face right now, he had before but not for reasons he really wanted to examine. Tiredly he rested his head at the crux between her neck and shoulder, unconsciously nuzzling closer and was distantly disappointed she was truly a professional in that she went unscented. The muscles underneath him tensed but he merely shifted for better comfort, and his arms tightened around her shoulders a little. 

“Shisui…” 

“Huh?”

“My name…” The rhythm of her jumps was a soothing rock and Shisui chose to rest his eyes for a moment. He may have imagined a response, her real name, something along the lines of short-lived blossoms but it was hard to tell if it was her voice or the rustling of leaves. He couldn’t stay conscious long enough to fully question it. For some time he bobbed through the river dividing realities, whose only real difference was whether eyes were closed or not. In between the haze of dreams a streak of a lap could be felt beneath his cheek, or a wizened word popped occasionally like bubbles. 

When he woke a couple of days later the dust was still settling. Outside his hospital room a political storm had raged, with the Hokage tower at the epicenter. From what Itachi had told him –Sakura? He was fairly sure that was her name – had blown in like an autumn wind, and strong-armed her way into the thick of the beast as only inevitable change could. No one knew what she had said to the Hokage or to Fugaku once the clan head had been summoned, as he had been the only witness in that locked room, staining the couch with his blood-soaked clothes. All that could be said definitely was that the Hokage’s oak desk had been broken in half and a new one had to be bought. But whatever occurred the consequences were small on the surface, yet seismic in nature. The first few days after being discharged, Shisui was caught up in the cogs and wheels of it all, a prime witness and a victim to the schism between the Uchiha and the village. After Danzo’s stunt, the entire village had been uprooted and the darkness crawled out of the crevices like rats. Occasionally he would see a flash of pink here or there, but he never had an opportunity to stop and talk to her again. It wasn’t until he received news that the woman would be leaving—going where? No one would tell him but the implication— that Shisui went out of his way to track her down. 

His footsteps staggered to a stop, kicking up dust as he found Sakura near the gates, a shock of blush against the green backdrop of Konoha’s lush yet humid summer. She glanced up from checking her gear, though it was impossible to read her expression given the mask. His feet felt like lead yet that didn’t stop him from walking up to her, pausing with only a couple of feet that separated them. His lips contorted as a jumble of words lay on his tongue, dead weight against the roof of his mouth. Just as he swallowed she mercifully broke the silence first. 

“Hey. You’re looking a lot better than when I saw you last time.”

“Y-Yeah, I uh, I’m back to normal though they say I should still take it easy just in case. So uh...listen,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “if it weren’t for you I probably wouldn’t be here and I really appreciate that so….thanks.” 

“…You’re welcome.” 

“So looks like you’re leaving, any idea when you’ll be back? I want to repay you somehow.”

“You don’t have to, I was—“

“Please don’t say ‘just doing your job’ because you yourself said you weren’t supposed to interfere,” She huffed and he couldn’t find it in himself to apologize or douse his smile. “Look, it was probably a regular day at work for you but…it wasn’t for me. So…you know.” He finished awkwardly. Shisui at least wanted to take her out to eat or something, maybe treat her to her favorite fix or maybe teach her a jutsu? Something to express his gratitude…and if it got them to spend more time together and potentially allow him to see her face…well. “That’s why I ask.” 

“…Shisui-san,” her shoulders were slumped scoops of vanilla given the cut of the uniform, “I…I don’t know when I’ll be back.” 

“…But you’ll be back?” There was something in his voice he didn’t even realize was there, let alone name. Sakura stared at him for a long moment, cogs turning behind the porcelain façade and just as he was about to take the silence as an answer, her posture straightened with quiet determination. 

“Yeah…yeah, I’ll be back. I’m not sure when or how long I’ll stay but…” her hands wove through the air with her words, “I’ll come visit you.” His doubt must have clouded his face as she put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “You don’t believe me. Well, if that’s the case how about we seal the deal?”

“Huh?”

“Take off your headband just for a sec. Please?” 

Warily, Shisui did as asked. He loosened the knot just enough so he could tilt it over his head, letting his bangs drape across his forehead. She motioned for him to lean down, which he did so he was within reach but with puzzlement. His eyes widened as the rabbit mask was upended, revealing her sweeping jawline and a hint of her mouth. She didn’t give him time to see more as leather-clad hands framed his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheeks, before Sakura got on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

He felt that kiss to his very toes, and his face combusted into color. Familiar chakra sparks popped like fireworks and the world turned sharper, more detailed. He swallowed reflexively as his Sharingan burned the memory of her pink, lip gloss gleamed lips into his mind. They smiled at him as she pulled away, the shade and softness of old scars with a hint of pearl as her teeth tried but couldn’t completely succeed at hiding. Sakura adjusted her mask so it completely concealed her face once more before she grabbed his headband from his limp fingers, and shoved it back down to lay messily, almost crookedly on his head. It slipped down further nearly covering his eyes before his brain kick started back to functioning as he scrambled to right it.

“I’ll see you around, Shisui-kun.” _She changed the honorific._ By the time he lifted it back up to its proper place, he was already alone, with only a few cherry blossom petals to ever say otherwise. It took a while for his fingers to stop shaking enough to tie the knot properly and once that was done, he leaned against the gate, placed his hand over his chest, and willed his heart to remain where it was.


End file.
